


Picky Eater

by PeridotWritesFic



Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Crying, Eating Disorders, Gen, Platonic LAMP - Freeform, References adult content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 07:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13453632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeridotWritesFic/pseuds/PeridotWritesFic
Summary: Virgil has always been a bit of a picky eater, but the other sides hadn't really been affected by it until now...Story inspired by a Tumblr post





	1. Chapter 1

Virgil had been a picky eater as a child. He'd gotten better about it bit by bit while growing up, but some things never changed. He was anxiety, and sometimes, when he was feeling particularly himself for an extended period, he stopped eating.

Virgil got like this sometimes, when he got tired and stressed and had been for a while, he got picky. He didn't want to eat, but he knew he had to, for Thomas's sake if not for his own. But it was so hard to make himself eat anything when nothing appealed. Nothing gave him an appetite, and when he did force himself to take a few bites of one of his favorite foods, pizza, it tasted bland and it was difficult to swallow. He felt each bite of food more than usual; felt the grease from the cheese and the acid from the sauce swish around in his mouth as he chewed and the awful, slow slide down his throat as he swallowed. It was repulsive and made him want to vomit.

He'd been like this for a couple weeks now, subsisting on the occasional cup of coffee and a few bites here and there of whatever he could manage to make palatable. He'd tried to hide it from the other sides, staying mostly in his room, but as they worked on videos and helped Thomas with various tasks in his life he was in their company more and more, and they were starting to notice something.

Roman had started laying off the insulting nicknames and asking if he'd decided to use a paler shade of foundation. He hadn't, actually, but no need to let Sir Sing-A-Lot know that. Patton had taken to asking how he was feeling more lately, and a simple 'fine' didn't cut it. Virgil had to give at least a three-word response to pacify the parental side. Patton had also taken to offering him cookies and handing him bottles of water and refusing to take no for an answer. He'd had to empty the pockets and hood of his jacket on more than one occasion when Patton had shoved the sweet treats in there.

Logan was, well, Logan. He was watching with eyes far too keen and forever scribbling in a notebook he carried with him. Virgil was pretty sure he did not want to see the contents of that notebook. Logan occasionally asked him questions, like when he last ate, what time he'd gone to bed, etc. Virgil tried to brush him off, told him to 'stop treating me like a science experiment' which had only stopped the questions, not the knowing looks and constant scratching of pen on a notebook.

He didn't mean to stand up too fast from one of their discussions. He hadn't meant to get dizzy and blackout, especially not in front of them, but he had. He had and his last conscious thought was that the yelling he heard must be directed at him because he had failed, again.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Virgil woke up on the couch in the living room. Memories from right before his collapse came rushing back and the anxious side sat bolt-upright heart pounding. Of course, the abrupt movement made his head go fuzzy and his vision swim which only added to his panic. How did he get here? There was yelling before he fell, they were mad at him. He had to hide. He had to do something because now they knew he wasn't getting better. They knew...

Vigil pulled himself together enough to look around. There was a bottle of water on the coffee table beside him, which he gratefully downed. He didn't see the other sides, but now that he was calming down a little, he heard the sound of hushed voices coming from upstairs. Slowly, Virgil pushed himself up from the couch and walked as quietly as possible to the staircase to listen. He could do better damage control when he knew how bad the situation was.

“We should have done something sooner!” That was Roman, always a bit too loud, even when trying to be quiet.

There were some quiet mutterings he couldn't quite hear before he made out another voice.

“We'll need to break it to him gently, he's probably going to get upset.” Oh no, that was Patton. Break what to him?

“ Some CBT will go a long way...” that was Logan, but he must have misheard. CBT? How did Logan even know what that was, and worse, why would they want to use it on him!?

Virgil sunk through the floor into his room, locking the door with a resounding click. He fell to the floor, shaking and wet. A trembling hand raised to his face confirmed that he was crying. Feeling worse than he could remember feeling in years, Virgil wrapped his arms around himself and wept.

He'd failed to control his weird eating habits. He'd failed to hide it from the other sides. He'd failed himself, and worse, he'd failed _Thomas_. His stomach and his heart were tying themselves in knots, and the pounding on his door wasn't helping. Everything inside him was screaming so loudly it felt like the room was screaming at him too. All he could do was hold himself tighter and gasp for breath between the sobs.

Something broke, and then there were arms and hands, cradling him, pulling him. They forced him to sit up, hands were holding his hand against a chest and he was leaning back against another chest. There was a hand stroking his hair and an arm around his waist. There was a voice, he couldn't make out the words, but it was familiar. The chests were moving in sync, and he slowly found his own trying to match it. He was breathing with them. The voice was counting. First to four, then to seven, then to eight. He was breathing with the counts and the chests.

He started to regain awareness of his surroundings. Patton was in front of him, he was the one holding his hands against his chest. There were tear streaks on his face. The voice was Logan, coming from beside him from about the same level. Probably kneeling then. That left Roman. Roman was the one he was leaning against, the one stroking his hair and holding him securely but not restrictively.

Virgil slowly relaxed against the gallant side's chest. Even mad at him, they wouldn't yell at him yet, not when he was like this, and they had come to help him calm down, so maybe they wouldn't resort to CBT after all.

“Virgil? Can you hear me now?” It was Logan's soft and concerned voice.

Virgil nodded slightly and felt Roman sigh, he assumed, in relief.

“Good. Can you speak?” Logan again, same soft, soothing voice.

Virgil opened his mouth, trying to say anything, and nothing came out. He shook his head and felt Patton give his hands a gentle squeeze.

“Okay, Virgil. Is the physical contact overstimulating you?”

Virgil shook his head. It felt kind of, nice. He felt secure.

“May we put you on your bed?”

Virgil thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

Patton released his hands gently. Virgil expected Princey to the one to pick him up and was surprised when Logan carefully plucked him from Roman's arms and lifted him bridal style.

“I've got you,” Logan said, as he carried him over to the bed and lay him back on it gently. Once Virgil was situated comfortably, Logan stood and Virgil worried he'd leave, but he left a hand on Virgil's shoulder.

“Would you like us to stay with you? You seemed to respond positively to the physical constant.”

Virgil nodded again and tried to say yes, but he couldn't speak yet.

Apparently, he didn't need to because in moments Logan was on the bed beside him, holding one of his hands. Patton was on his other side, stroking his hair and resting his head on Virgil's shoulder. Roman lay behind Patton, reaching over the parental side to hold his hand, rubbing his thumb over Virgil’s knuckles. It was warm and safe, calm and soothing.

After a few minutes, Virgil cleared his throat and tried to speak again.

“I-I got my voice back,” he said quietly. He didn't have to be loud, they were right next to him after all.

“Virgil,” oh God, it was Patton, and he was using his Dad voice, “Son, we need to talk about this. We want to help you.”

“We won't do anything you don't want us to do, Virgil, but we're worried about you not eating,” Roman said, squeezing his hand.

Virgil looked at Logan, who nodded.

“So, no CBT?” Virgil asked, still feeling apprehensive.

Logan looked surprised, “Not if you're uncomfortable with it, though I had thought you'd be more receptive once you knew what it was.”

Virgil levered himself up on his elbows, forcing Patton to sit up and stop stroking his hair, “How could you think I would be okay with that?!”

“Well, Cognitive-Behavioral Therapy is one of the more effective treatments for your particular brand of eating disorder, but if you're opposed, we could try hypnotherapy..”

“Wait, what? What eating disorder? What, therapy?”

Logan quirked an eyebrow in surprise and a bit of confusion but kept the soft and reassuring tone when he spoke again. “Virgil, I've been taking note of your symptoms over the past couple weeks. From my observations and a bit of research, I determined that you most likely have avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder. In your case, it seems to be tied to your experience of anxiety. Cognitive-behavioral therapy or CBT is the most common treatment for this disorder, but there are other options.”

Virgil couldn't help it, he laughed. He laughed until he was wheezing and his eyes watered. Patton giggled next to him and Roman guffawed.

“Logan,” Virgil gasped when he got some breath back, “that is not the only meaning of CBT. Maybe don't use that acronym.”

Logan went to pull out his vocab cards, only to be stopped by Roman.

“Trust me, you don't want to know,” Roman said, shooting a wink at Virgil who rolled his eyes.

Logan put away the cards, eyeing Roman with mistrust.

Patton looked back and forth between Roman and Virgil, looking to be let in on the joke. Virgil just smiled at him, not happening.

“So that thing where I can't force myself to eat, that's a disorder and it has a name. Huh.” Virgil said, “And you guys were trying to figure out how to tell me without making me worry.”

“Well of course! We love you, Virgil” Patton exclaimed and wrapped him in a tight hug which Virgil returned.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I'm... I'm sorry Virgil, for not doing more sooner,” Roman said, looking adorably uncomfortable.

Patton let him go and Virgil pulled Roman into a hug, earning an 'oof' from Patton being squished under Roman.

“Awww, Sir Sing-A-Lot cares about meeee,” Virgil teased, earning a bark of laughter and a hair ruffle from Roman.

“Course I do Hot Topic, but Logan's the one that figured it out and knew what to do. Believe it or not, he's the one who broke your door down to get to you.”

Virgil let go of the fanciful side and turned to check the door. Sure enough, the door to his room was wrecked off its hinges. That kind of damage usually had Princey all over it, for Logan to have done that...

The logical side stood next to the bed, cleaning his glasses carefully.

“I used the most direct method to reach you when it was imperative to do so quickly.” Logan blushed, “I will repair your door, or replace it as necessary.”

Virgil stood up and took two steps over to Logan in the time it took Logan to replace his glasses. Virgil threw himself at Logan, almost sending them both crashing to the floor.

“Thank you.”

Virgil held on to Logan like he didn't want to let go, and he really didn't. When Logan hugged him back like he was the most precious treasure, Virgil knew he was going to be okay.

He was home.

 


End file.
